Travel Issues
by MadameMox
Summary: "…I was dealing with some travel issues... They weren't exactly my travel issues…" Dean is cleared and ready for action! Abandoning he and Seth's original plans, Dean wants to make Ziggler and McIntire pay for what they did to his friend. He will make it to Greenboro come hell or high water!


ooof... How long has it been since I posted?! Geez (sorry)

Confession time… hands up all those who squealed like a little girl when he returned. *Throws up both hands shamelessly* OH MY DAYS! How good does that man look! The hair, the bod, oh mercy me *fans self*

*clears throat* Anyway! Here's a little something to tide you lovelies over with while I plow on with my other stories. I couldn't resist, I need to bask in all the happy Ambrollins goodness while it lasts.

Hope you enjoy it

xXx GS xXx

* * *

"You're cleared to compete Mr. Ambrose." Dean blinked at the doctor several times, even asking to repeat himself. When the Doctor handed him the official letter to give to Kurt Angle he still couldn't quite believe it. 8 months. 8 long hard aggravating months he was shelved. Working hard on rehabbing his tricep with one goal in mind. To get back to what he loved doing, beating the crap out of people.

Dean stared from the small white envelope in his hand to the view outside his windscreen. The parking lot was nothing exciting to look at, drab, boring, a few cars parked across a tarmacked surface and yet a small excited smile still formed across his face. He was cleared to compete. Tucking the letter into the pocket of his leather jacket and swapping it for his cell phone, opening the last text message he received.

[[Getting on my flight now. (It's gonna be a long one!) Call me as soon as you know anything ... Good Luck]]

Dean paused, his thumb hovering over the 'Call Back' button. How long was a flight from China to the US? Would he have even landed yet? He was scheduled to be on Raw tonight, so he must be back by now. Seth had stayed by his side for the entire 8 months of his rehab. Even when he couldn't be there physically he called, he texted, when Dean felt crappy he would send stupid dog videos just to make him smile. Between the time differences, jet lag and doctors appointments they had very little contact with each other. Dean missed him, more than he thought he'd ever would. He didn't want to waste any more time. He was damn near desperate to see him, would do whatever it took to get back to him, to fight by his side, share a beer, hear his dorky laugh. Protect him from those two.

They had a plan, regardless of today's result. Cleared or not Dean would be in his corner for his rematch at SummerSlam. He promised he was going to kick their asses once he was fixed and ready to go, and he was damn sure about keeping his word. He wasn't going to let Seth be subjected to another ambush at the hands of Ziggler and McIntire. It was bad enough sitting at home watching everything unfold on TV, helpless to do anything, his stupid arm strapped up in a sling. Watching him get brutalized week in, week out, in front of his very eyes was like a pain he never experienced, a white-hot dagger through his chest each and every time. He couldn't even support him, defend his honor, tend his wounds. All he could offer was a stupid ass facetime call. Seth putting on that forced brave smile. "Don't worry Deano, I'm fine. I'll get them next week…"

But now he was cleared, and those two were going to pay. Fresh from the Docs, his sign off papers sitting proudly on the rentals seat next to him. Unlike his careful partner, Dean lived for the here and now. Without a second guess, he typed out a simple reply, as a plan formed in his head.

[[See you in Greensboro.]]

...::::::...

Carrying nothing but his cell phone, wallet and the letter of clearance Dean was not prepared for traveling, and even he had to admit this wasn't his best plan. He tapped his foot impatiently as he stood idly in the long queue, arms folded across his chest as he let out another irritated sigh. Dean hated waiting, was pretty impatient when it came to things like this. Especially when he had nothing to distract him from the utter boredom. He was stuck, smack bang in the middle of this twisting, snaking line. Sectioned off by small metal posts and belt barriers, like waiting for the dullest ride at the world's lamest amusement park. Edging ever closer to the large flight information desk. Excited and weary travelers bustled around him as a tannoy overhead announced another flight for boarding. Maybe he should have just driven. It was only an 8-hour drive, he could have gotten to North Carolina with time to spare, maybe it wasn't too late to go get his rental car back. But would sitting in a car for 8 hours be worse than standing in this queue?

"Can I help you?" The lady behind the information desk asked as Dean finally reached the end of the line. Her light blond hair pulled up into a high ponytail, highlighting the face plastered in layers of fake tan and makeup. Dean stepped forward purposefully, leaning one elbow and forearm on the desk surface.

"I need to get to North Carolina. Greensboro. Like, right now."

"Ok," the lady smiled. She tapped away at the computer in front of her, her long pink nails tick tapping across the keys. Pausing to read something on the screen, only to continue clicking away. This went on for what felt like an eternity. Dean was starting to see why it had taken so long to get to the front. He bit his tongue, literally, to stop him from demanding her hurried up.

"Oh, you're in luck," she cooed cheerily. "We have a flight leaving in an hour. With one stopover in Charlotte. But you'd have to run, they just started boarding."

"Awesome," Dean beamed. He would get there with plenty of time. Hell, he'd get there so early there might still be good food left in catering. He slid out his credit card and drivers license, handing it to her willingly, only for her to painfully tip tap away at the keyboard again. The sound alone sending all of Deans nerve endings on edge, he ground his teeth as she took another agonizingly long time to fill out his information.

"Any luggage. Carry-ons?"

"Nope"

The lady looked up at him, her brow knitting together in confusion. "Nothing? No laptop, backpack?" Dean shrugged as the woman printed out his boarding pass, directing him towards airport security where Dean would stand in another queue. What fun.

One tray per person. How hard was it to understand a simple instruction?! Deans jaw mashed together in frustration as he rolled his head towards the ceiling, counting to 10 and steadying his breathing like Seth had taught him. Fed up of watching the small family of 4 trying to cram there belonging into one grey airline tray. Of course, this means they had to unpack their tray when the security woman told them they couldn't pass through. Which also meant they had to get 3 more grey trays, packing each one as slowly as the previous, holding up the entire line. Making the whole queue wait even longer while the steward brought another load of trays because they had used the last of the pile in Deans line.

Deans temper twitched, arms folded across his chest again as he tapped his index finger across his tense bicep. Finally, it was his turn, snapping up a tray and slamming it on the roller conveyor. Throwing everything in his pockets into the tray, phone, wallet, half pack of gum, the letter, boarding pass, shoes, belt, before pushing it to the large x-ray machine. Joining the smaller queue of people waiting to go through the scanner, once again stuck behind the family of 4, where their youngest was now throwing a temper tantrum. He didn't want to go through the "Loud beepy machine." Dean prayed they wouldn't be on his flight.

Belongings back in his possession Dean took off running, of course, his gate would be at the furthest end of the airport, why would it need to be any closer? Dodging travelers and objects like an Olympic skier, skirting around the flags on a snowy slope, he hoped he'd get there on time. The final boarding call for his flight announcing overhead made him pick up more speed. Skidding to a halt at his gate, out of breath and panting he approached the flight gate. Sliding the boarding pass and his ID to the man behind the desk.

"Lucky you, we were just about to close the door."

Dean couldn't reply, his chest burned as he gasped in air, throwing up nothing more than a thumbs up as the man stamped his pass and handed it back to him. Dean walked the narrow jet bridge to the plane, the noise of the outside growing louder as soon as he stepped onto the worn walkway. Planes taking off and voices shouting, which were muted by the airport's thick walls, now sang their praises and a cool grateful breeze blew through the tunnel, making Dean more aware of the sweat that clung to his body. Met with a friendly air stewardess who welcomed him aboard Dean shuffled his way down the cramped aisle, butting against peoples overhanging legs, arms, apologizing to everyone he brushed against. Finally reaching his seat he groaned internally. He shared his row with a heavy-set businessman occupying the window seat. Tie loosened, glasses perched on the end of his nose as he read the paper, and a younger girl, who claimed the aisle seat. Dressed head to toe in black, a stark contrast to her paler than pale skin, looking like she escaped straight from an 80s vampire film, thrash metal blaring from her cat-eared shaped headphones. Dean seat nestled snuggly in between them.

Excusing himself passed the girl he sat, finally able to relax. He was going to make it. Leaning back, he smiled, but this moment of bliss was short-lived. The dawning realization that he was stuck on this plane for 2 hours with nothing to occupy him. His plan of grabbing a magazine and some lunch before he boarded was nothing more than a pipe dream now, the engines revved, and the crew readied for take-off.

Playing peekaboo with the toddler sat in the seat in front of him entertained him for a while. Sticking out his tongue every time the little tyke poked his head between the gap in the seats. But even after the 47th time, it was starting to grate on him. Vampire Diaries beside him turned off her death metal after the plane took off, but was now watching some seizure inducing Japanese cartoon as a replacement. Mr Business snored loudly beside him, occupying the entire armrest, his newspaper like a makeshift blanket draped over his stomach. Dean leaned back, closing his eyes and trying to get to his 'Happy Place.'

Thinking about all the things he could do again, getting in that ring, fighting the good fight. The people he would get to see again. Roman, Finn, Sasha, Bayley…. Seth. His smile widened. _He sure did miss Seth_. Spending every day of your life traveling with people, performing in front of adoring fans, to suddenly sitting home alone with no one to talk to but your own self was the worst. Dean felt like he had been placed in solitary confinement for a crime he didn't commit. Left with nothing but his own thoughts. And more than not, those thoughts wondered over to Seth. Not being able to hear from him, see in while he was away in China nearly drove Dean insane. Their relationship was a complicated one. Seth Rollins and Dean Ambrose butted heads more times than two Stags fighting for dominance. On again off again friends, brothers, enemies…. but Dean was never satisfied.

He spent a lot of his lonely night wondering about Seth. Trying to put all the pieces of their complicated puzzle together. Seth was a true brother in arms, out to repent his sins after the betrayal. Would do anything for his brothers, even staying by Deans side for every step of his recovery. Willingly waiting for hours in a hospital waiting room, just to check if the surgery went well. Falling asleep in the only armchair in Deans recovery room, waiting for him to wake up. Sneaking him in outside food every time Dean was hungry. Any free days off he had he would use to travel halfway across the country to attend his rehab sessions, just so he could be there for moral support. Dean was a shitty patient too, he was grouchy, bad-tempered when the pain was too much, flew off in a fit of anger when he couldn't do something simple. He definitely wasn't much fun to be around. Hell, he didn't want to be around himself half the time! And yet Seth was there, for every up and down over his recovery. Sharing the same small hotel room Dean had been living in for months down in Alabama. Even sharing the same bed.

No, normal friends wouldn't do that, he and Roman certainly never did. But to Dean, Seth was never really just a friend, and now he was finding it hard to keep the truth hidden. This wasn't just a crush anymore.

...::::::...

The wheels hit the tarmac in Charlotte and Deans belt was off instantly, screw the safety signs. His stomach growled impatiently, practically eating itself alive. He hadn't eaten since he left his hotel back in Alabama. That had been at 9 am, it was now quarter past 4. After his overrunning appointment at the Docs, and the near 2-hour plane ride, Dean was damn near ready to kill for something to eat. His mouth salivated at the thought of him devouring a big greasy burger, the idea alone driving him forward and off the plane.

Stepping off the jet bridge he was met with another terminal, looking the same as the previous one he left. Double checking his boarding pass and the large arrivals/departure board, Dean was relieved to see his gate wasn't too far from where he was now. But the large yellow DELAYED next to his flight number made him pull a face. "Fuck" he murmured. But a tasty scent caught his nose making his mouth water again. Melted cheese, Pizza? He followed his nose, trailing him away from his gate to a small food court comprised of 4 different food stands. The first one in the line was an ice-cream stand, as delicious as the frozen desserts were, Dean needed something a little more substantial. The Burger King next door was closed for refurbishments. The third, Johnny's Pizzeria, the tantalizing smell that drew him in the direction had the longest queue. So, he opted for the fourth and final place. The happy smiling corn on the cob looking down at him cheery and inviting. a vegan stand?! Dean growled under his breath but what other choice did he have? He didn't want to stand in anymore ques especially when food was involved. And he also didn't want to stray too far from the gate, surely the delay wouldn't be too long.

He gave his order to the seemingly zoned out hippy behind the glass barrier. He had no idea what a falafel was, but he was about to find out. Taking the small paper tray and bottled water Dean found a quiet empty table and sat down, eager to eat anything even, if it did look like rabbit food. He had to admit it wasn't so bad, but then again, he was so hungry he could have eaten a shoe and would have been happy with it. Sliding his cell out of his pocket he deactivated Airplane mode, his phone exploding into life as notifications buzzed across his screen. 4 missed calls, 5 text messages. Dean chuckled as he took another bite of his falafel scrolling through the frantic messages:

[[What do you mean see you in Greensboro?!]]  
[[Ambrose Answer your damn phone!]]  
[[Did they clear you or not?!]]  
[[I swear to god I hate you sometimes…]]  
[[Hey bro, what's going on? Seth's full-on freaking out over here. Call him, please... Ro]]

Dean thought he's let this torcher continue for a while longer, at least until he finished his rabbit's dinner, but his little plan soon backfired. His phone started to vibrate its way across the table with an incoming call. Rollins. Accepting the call he scooped up the phone, before he could even get a word out his ear was victim to a King Slayer meltdown.

"AMBROSE! Where are you! Did you get cleared? What the hell man!?"

"Well hello to you to Princess, how was China?"

"Don't change the…" Seth started to yell but sighed loudly. Dean imagining that hand running across his forehead and through his thick dark hair, his 'I'm totally sick of your shit Ambrose' eye roll, all followed by that small chuckle that was only reserved for him. "Where are you?" he asked, continuing in a much calmer manner.

"Charlotte. I'm waiting for a connection. Should be in Greensboro soon." he smirked taking another bite of his falafel.

"Wait? You're coming here? Tonight!" His voice taking on a higher octave "B-b-but what about SummerSlam, our plan? Not that I'm happy with that either! I really don't want you out there if you haven't been cleared"

"Well, it's a good thing I'm cleared then." He muttered through his mouthful

Seth was silent for a beat. "Y-you are?"

Imagining those wide brown's staring out in wonder, he smiled fondly before swallowing. "I'm back baby"

Seth cackled, a sound that made Dean beam ear to ear. He could see Seth throwing his head back with laughter, making catcalls and various excited noises down the phone. His heart swelling with pride. "Oh man, that's – I'm so happy for you man" he gushed.

"I got my letter with me, wanna give it to Kurt tonight. The quicker I can get back in that ring the better. How was China?"

"Awesome." Seth sighed fondly. "I literally landed 2 hours ago, I'm exhausted."

"You at Raw?"

"Nah, Kurt said I could take my time, he knew I wasn't getting back till late. I'm gonna try and sleep off some of this jetlag at the hotel before I go to work."

"Well stay there, I'll meet you. That way we can rock up to the show together. I don't have a rental… or a room so-"

"Share mine. I've been sleeping in your bed for the past 8 months, what's one more night, huh?"

"Hey man. What happens in Alabama, stays in Alabama."

Seth let out a nasally chuckle again. "Right."

The announcement overhead caught Deans attention. He was pretty sure it was a call for his flight but couldn't quite hear over the hubbub in the terminal.

"Brotha I gonna go, I think they're calling my flight"

"Ok," Seth yawned "See you soon. Call me when you land"

Dean hung up, deposited the paper tray into the nearest trashcan and joined the fray of people aimlessly wandering the terminal. He reached his gate but was surprised to see no boarding queue, the gate wasn't even open. The information screen above the desk still displayed that the flight was Delayed. However, the large black question mark that sat beside the 'Estimated time of Arrival' heading didn't fill Dean with confidence. He slumped into the nearest plastic chair. Leaning forward to rest his forearms atop his thighs, swinging the water bottle freely in the gap. His eyes glued to the electronic notice board, willing it to change.

As time passed by Dean patients was wearing thinner by the minute. His bottled water, now empty of all liquid was his only form of amusement. Crunching the empty shell in his large hands, over and over again, now resembled a smashed pile of plastic rather than a bottle. His eyes still fixed to that mocking black Question Mark. Even his Phone was betraying him, his battery now at 35% with no means of getting it charged. It was fast approaching 7.30pm, Raw would be going live in less than 30 minutes and Dean was still nowhere closer to Greensboro. "If the plane arrived now, it would take less than half an hour to get me there." He kept telling himself "Still plenty of time." His heart stopped in his chest when the question mark disappeared from the screen and was replaced with: 10.26pm.

"THREE HOURS!" Dean exclaimed, causing the small group of travelers that surrounded him to silence. Fighting the urge to hurl the mashed-up plastic at the screen he was now facing a problem, a major problem. If he stayed the course and caught this flight, by the time he would land in Greensboro, Raw would be over. Seth undoubtedly laid victim to another assault from Dolph and Drew. Dean screwed the bottle tighter in his hand, the pointed peaks of the squashed plastic digging into Deans flesh as he squeezed tighter and tighter. The pain almost grounding him, helping him think straight. "Greensboro isn't that far. About an hour's drive maybe?" He thought, leaning forward as he tried to figure out a plan B. "That would still get me to the last 2 hours of Raw. I need a car." Dean didn't want to waste any more time, jumping to his feet he marched to the gate desk, slamming the hunk of plastic down on the surface. The man behind looking from the misshapen bottle up to Dean. "I need a car" he barked. The man recoiling away from him slightly, his wide eyes looking slightly panicked. Forgetting momentarily that his new appearance probably didn't look the friendliest, especially when he had been scowling at the electronic screen behind him for the last hour. Continuing as calmly as possible, not wanting the man to run in terror he asked where the Rental desk was.

Downstairs, past the baggage claim and outside. Dean followed his instructions to the word towards the small square building. The door chiming as he stepped over the threshold, a man appeared from the back room to stand behind the counter. A wide plastered on smile that looked as fake as the happy smiling cardboard cut out beside him.

"Hello sir, how can I help you today?" A shiver tingled up Deans spine, his forceful cheeriness rubbing his psyche up the wrong way.

"I need a car."

"I can certainly do that for you." He beamed, typing away at the keyboard in front of him, feeling like he was having a conversation with a robot. Dean slid out his credit card and drivers license again, sliding them over to the robot. "would you be interested in our-"

"I don't want nothing flash, nothing fancy. I just need to get to Greensboro, tonight. I'm in a hurry too so-" Dean gestured with his hand encouraging the robot to type faster. The cashier's smile dropped slightly, there were no teeth baring now but this somehow made his appearance even more sinister. Dragging Deans credentials across the plastic desk he typed away at the keyboard. Before long a set of silver keys were placed on the desk and slid across to him.

He was on his way, finally making some progress. The rental was indeed nothing to flash, the bare basics, no Bluetooth, the radio didn't work properly, and no GPS. Thankfully his phone was doing all the navigating… if the battery holds out. He checked the clock on the dashboard; 7.45pm. According to his phone, the drive was just a little over an hour away, he would make it to Raw, just about. The highway around him was pretty deserted, something that Dean relished. Finally, he could get his foot down, break a few speed limits, do whatever it took to get to Seth.

…::::...

Dean groaned, flopping forward to repeatedly bang his head against the brim of the steering wheel. "Come on! Give me a break," he groaned loudly. He was stuck in traffic. Roadworks it would seem. Bright orange cones closed off 2 lanes of the highway, flashing beacons from workmen trucks, diggers and corded off zones lit the area surrounding him. With a loud dejected sigh, he hurled himself backward in his seat, slamming angrily on the horn again in the vain hope that the heavy line of traffic would part like the red sea. But the only red sea Dean witnessed was a flood of red brake lights, shining from all directions. According to his phone's GPS app, he still had another 30 minutes' drive to the Coliseum, and Raw was already into its second hour of broadcasting. He checked the clock on the dashboard again 8.25, that worrying thought becoming a reality, like a sinking stone falling deep into the pit of his stomach. He wasn't going to make it. "No. I got to get there." He muttered trying to convince himself "I'll run if I have too."

His cell, which sat in a phone cradle stuck to the windscreen buzzed into life. The bright screen illuminating the car's interior. Rollins... again. Smiling to himself, he thought how funny it was that whenever he was feeling shitty he was there. Like he automatically knew something was up, even if he wasn't in the same room. He adjusted his position and accepted the call.

"Yo." He answered cheerily. Eyes fixed to the road once again, still crawling at an ungodly slow pace.

"Where are you?" Seth yawned through the loudspeaker. "Thought you'd be here by now."

Dean scratched the back of his head. Still unused to the short buzz cut sides scratching at his fingertips, "I'm _-urgh-_ stuck in traffic." He admitted sheepishly

"Traffic?!" Seth exclaimed, sounding much more awake now. "What happened- Where are you?"

"My flight got delayed. So, I canned that idea and snagged a rental. And now I'm stuck in traffic"

"Any alternate routes?"

"Hang on." Dean leaned in closer again, tapping a few times at his cell screen. No alternate routes. The only possible route had already gone. One off-ramp which would have been his only way of escape had been 10 minutes back in the opposite direction.

"No" he murmured sadly. "The next off-ramp is the one I need to get off at anyway"

"Shit." After a long pause, no doubt weaving some kind of strategy through his marvelous brain, "I guess you just got to sit it out. We'll meet at the arena. Break some speed limits if you have to. Just get here."

Dean smirked. Maybe they had been spending too much time together, practically thinking alike. "You're the boss. I'll see you soon," he leaned in to end the call

"Dean." Seth called halting his motion, finger poised above the end call button "Jus' … be careful, alright. Don't do anything stupid."

He smiled "aww you worrying about me now Princess?" he cooed

There was a brief stint of silence before Seth spoke again, "fuck you." And the phone line went dead. Dean laughed, grinning ear to ear at the idea of Seth's rosy red embarrassed cheeks. Any opportunity he got to make his friend feel the slightest bit uncomfortable he would grab it with both hands.

The clock seemed to be ticking down faster now. 40 minutes to the end of the show, 35, 30. Dean flew down the streets, foot practically pressed to the floor. Finally, free of the hellacious highway. Buildings, people, cars, all sped by him, but he was solely focused on one thing, getting to Seth. 25. The constant fear that any moment the police would be right behind him prickled the back of his neck, but all those fears quelled as the Coliseum came into view, he was going to make it. 20. With a screech of tires, Dean hurled into the parking lot, slamming the breaks hard when he was met with a drawn down security barrier. The old security guard in the booth turned his attention from the small TV to consider the newcomer, making no effort to hurry his investigation.

"Can I help?" he asked in a slow southern drawl adjusting his hat, pushing the brim further up his forehead to observe. His elbow hanging out the sliding glass window as he gazed down at Dean's car.

"I work with these guys." Dean replied frantically, fingers tapping at the wheel "Can you just let me in"

The old man cocked an eyebrow as his dark eyes cascaded over Dean "Bit late aren't ya? Shows nearly over."

"I know Jus'-" Dean banged his head against the steering wheel. He let out a long agonizing breath "Can you just let me in… please" he pleaded through gritted teeth.

"Sorry." The man sank back into the booth readjusting "Not supposed to let anyone in until all the talent has left."

Dean sat bolt upright. "You Fu… Fine," fidgeting with his seat belt it unclasped, swiping his jacket off the passenger's seat, his phone from the cradle and yanking the keys out the ignition he leaped out of the car. Tossing the keys over the roof of the car to the security guard he demanded he watched the car, hopping the barrier like an Olympic runner and took off sprinting across the parking lot. Ignoring the panicked calls that faded fast behind him.

Entrance B, that's where Seth was meeting him. But Dean cursed as the building grew closer. He was heading for Entrance D. Taking a sharp left he continued his pursuit, his chest hurting with every pant, that tightening burn growing stronger again. He didn't need to know if he was running the right way. He could see Seth. Pacing back and forth, dressed head to toe in his usual ring gear, a sight that Dean didn't realize he missed all too much. He looked up sharply as Deans footsteps echoed up the building. Not even giving him a chance to speak, Dean threw his arms around him. He wanted to savor this moment, clinging onto him for dear life, for as long as he could. But Seth pushed back sharply, his eyes wide, horrified. "Y-your hair?!"

"It's gone… yeah" Dean panted with an elated smile, running a hand over his fresh buzz cut. Seth mimicked his action, his warm palm caressing the top of Deans scalp sending playful shivered down his body. His dismayed expression morphing into amusement as he beamed. Overrunning appointments, hours spent waiting in a doctor's office, airports and lines of traffic, l all seemed worth it when he looked at that happy face. "Do you like it?"

"Yeah … It's so… different." Seth continued to caress his scalp slower, like petting a cat that was sleeping soundly on the owners' lap. The burning pain in his chest seeming to fade away with Seth's chuckle as his hand fell away. "I go away for a week and you cut off all your hair?!"

Dean shrugged casually "I got bored."

He rolled his eyes, Dean's chest filling with joy as he huffed. "Typical you. At least you didn't get anything pierced this time." Seth snapped as if suddenly remembering why they were here on the first place. "The shows almost over! Take this…" Noticing for the first time the roll of black fabric clutched tightly in Seth's grip, he slammed it into his chest, Deans hand covering it instinctively "… I made it ages ago, you were supposed to have it for Summer Slam, but since you're here…"

Pealing it off himself he unraveled the fabric. It was a new t-shirt, that familiar DA logo printed on the front. "Returned to Society" Dean chuckled "sure feels like that."

"Come on!" Seth called, propping the fire door open ushering Dean into the building. Stripping off his gross sweaty tank he swapped it out for the new black merch, Seth had even cut off the sleeves. Deans heart grew, it was nice to feel cared for, especially the way Seth did. Following his friend into the building, surrounded by all the familiar people he had missed. All with the same wide-eyed "holy crap is that Dean?!" expression. Seth's hand slipped behind him, firmly guiding his lower back towards gorilla position. Dean dropped his belongings on a small unused table beside a wide array of monitors. The screens were stacked up like a wall, one on top of the other and all displaying various different camera angles. The sight alone of Ziggler and McIntire made Deans blood boil. He stepped forward, but Seth's arm snapped up. Grabbing a hold of his wrist.

"Not yet." Seth hushed, "I need him to sign the contract first. Can't have him backing out now" Seth beamed, folding his arms across his chest he continued to watch the monitors, waiting for his perfect moment. But Dean found himself watching Seth, he had missed him, missed seeing him so focused, getting in the zone right before a match, his little work out routines.

"Hey," Dean whispered grabbing Seth's attention. He turned, looking away from the screens he peered over his shoulder as Dean butted it with his own, "I missed you."

Seth scoffed a questioning raised eyebrow studied him, "you goin' soft on me Ambrose?" But before Dean could even answer Seth sprang into action, like a firefighter receiving a 911 call. He ordered Dean to wait back here until he was called for "Don't want to ruin the surprise." Swiping a mic he headed towards the entrance bouncing excitedly on the spot, his long wet hair following the motions of his body as it slapped his shoulders. His entrance music rattled the rafters. With a final glance over his shoulder towards Dean, he winked playfully and vanished through the curtain.

It was odd to think that 12 hours ago he was in Alabama, waiting to find out if he could return or not. How he rushed across the country just to be by that man's side. And yet he still had no idea. _Friends don't treat me like you do, it's why I find it hard not to love you._


End file.
